The Point of No Return
by EloiseInWonderland
Summary: When Clary is sent to jail for a murder she didn't commit, all she wants to do is get out and move on. But her life is never that easy. When the mysterious but intriguing Jace helps her break out, she thinks it's over. But someone framed her for a reason. As she uncovers more secrets and grows closer to Jace, she realizes that everything has just begun.
1. Chapter 1

Clary fidgeted in the bright orange jumpsuit, subconsciously tugging the itchy material away from her thin neck. She cracked her neck once, twice, and then stood from where she had been sitting on the solid but cracked concrete bench. She walked toward the bars that traversed one side of the cell and craned her head, trying to see something. Anything, really.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded hoarse from disuse, bitter from experience. She was answered with silence. She cleared her throat and tried again, running her hands down the lengths of the cool metal bars.

"Anyone there?" What she would have given for someone to talk to. She had been sitting in this barren cell for three days without a word. Even the person who delivered the lukewarm mush that they called meals had had nothing to say to her. She supposed that was how people treated you when you were a convicted felon.

She sighed and slumped back onto the bench, wincing at the return of pressure on her sore muscles. She had been in the same position for hours—her body was aching for some movement. Clary grabbed her sketchbook, the only thing that she had been allowed to bring with her, from the small shelf in the corner of the room and sat criss crossed on the ground. She knew that the position combined with her height and stature made her look like a little girl, but she was desperate for some variation.

She flipped open the book to the page that she had left off on, rolling her eyes at her own melodramatics. She had drawn handcuffs on her convicting judge.

Clary threw down her sketchbook in frustration, running her fingers through her hair. She shouldn't have even been there. She couldn't even think straight—the last two months had been a whirlwind of tears and confusion. She couldn't even remember what it had been like before.

She had been so sure that the whole investigation into her was a mistake. Why would she have killed her sweet old neighbor? The idea was so ridiculous to her that she hadn't even considered the idea that she could actually go to jail for it. But even Clary had to admit that, as the investigation drew on, it seemed more and more like she had done it. But she _hadn't._

Clary threw her pencil now too.

"Hey. Fray. You're out of confinement." Clary forgot her musing at the sight of the guard and sprang to her feet, ready to burst out of the cell. She quickly gathered her sketchbook and pencil, wincing imperceptibly as the guard took them from her as soon as she'd picked them up.

She let out a sort of muted whimper at the loss, but all the guard did was grunt.

"Can't have these with the other inmates. Sorry kiddo." She was sure he was sorry. Just like she was sorry that time a rude driver had cut her off and then gotten pulled over. She could hear the sorrow in his voice.

He reached over to cuff her, but she drew back slightly. He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Look kid. I can't take you to a new cell without cuffing you. It's the rules." He gently but firmly pulled her unwilling hands into the cuffs, locking them just a rung too tight. She glared at him, hating how cheerful and justified he looked. He thought that she was just another teenage murderer and that he had every right to be rude to her. He even whistled as they walked down the rows of empty cells.

She caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors as they passed a bathroom, and almost gasped out loud before catching herself.

It looked like she had been run over. Her bright red hair was matted at the top, and her smeared makeup combined with the hair gave her a particular wounded red-headed raccoon look. Even her skin looked pale and ghastly (not that it wasn't usually pale) after spending the last two months alternating between home and the courthouse, and then later in the trial, jail and the courthouse.

"Welcome home," said the guard with a sinister grin, pushing Clary into a cell that she hadn't realized they'd arrived at. He adeptly maneuvered her hands out of handcuffs and clanged the door shut, depositing her into what may possibly have been hell.

There were two rows of beds, one on either side of the room, all but one containing a girl. They were all sleeping. Clary looked around in surprise—the room that she had been hadn't even had a window. She hadn't realized how late it was. She walked through the room in the dim lighting, hoping that she wouldn't trip on anyone. That's just what she needed, she thought laughingly. There was one empty cot near the edge of the room. She tried not to cringe at the thought of who had been there before her.

There was a pile of sheets on the bed, but they clearly weren't the ones that the prison had originally provided. It looked like the girls with the worst sheets had traded out her new ones for their old, hole-filled ones. She sighed and began to make the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. She couldn't make out any physical distinctions in the dark, but she knew that probably any one of these girls could have taken her on. She wasn't even really a challenge.

She smoothed the distinctly rough sheet and tried not to think about the smell as she crawled into the cot. Despite the obvious disrepair of the entire system, it was a relief to have an actual bed of some sort. In the solitary cell, she'd had a blanket and a concrete slab. That had been about it.

Clary folded her arms up under her head to make up for her lack of a pillow, eyes narrowing as she assessed that the girl in the cot next to her had two pillows. For a half a second, Clary wished that she actually had killed someone. Maybe that was what it took to survive in a place like that.

She quickly shook her head and brushed the thought away. She just wanted answers, and not to die at the hands of oversized female teenage felons.

That was the last thought Clary had before she embraced the darkness of sleep that had evaded her for days and tried to forget reality.

Unfortunately, reality doesn't like to be forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Clary woke from her slumber with a gasp as a torrent cold water descended onto her head. She shot up in bed and managed to bang the chin of someone leaning over her, gasping for air after the shock of the water had left her breathless.

"Damn what a pansy," someone muttered with disdain. Clary immediately stiffened, controlling her breathing even though her heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. She let her eyes adapt to the light and noticed a few girls wandering away from Clary's bed, clearly just interested in a reaction. Clary didn't give it to them, but she wasn't entirely sure what to say.

What do you say when you've just been woken up with a bucket of water?

"Does she speak?" A girl with ratty dark hair and dark eyes assessed Clary in a way that a predator might assess its prey. The girl was leaning against the wall next to Clary's bed; lounging so comfortably that it was obvious that was her element. She was the one in charge. Clary's eyes narrowed at the girl, but still said nothing. She wasn't going to start picking any fights with anyone until she knew how things worked in juvie.

"I do," said Clary, measuring her words carefully, "speak, I mean. But, if you're going to wake me up by dumping water on my head, it really is common courtesy to tell me what you want." Clary cringed as the words fell out of her mouth, hoping that she hadn't just said the worst thing possible.

However, to Clary's relief, the girl just laughed. Her smile lit her face up in a way that somewhat obscured the fact that she looked like hell. She almost looked nice.

"I'm Becca," said the girl with the ratty hair, not bothering to shake hands. She stood and moved from the wall to walk toward what looked like a bathroom. The rest of the girls had dispersed, and Becca looked back at Clary, eyebrows raised, "you coming?"

Clary scrambled up off of her bed, then controlled her movements and slowed down. She didn't want too look too eager—she figured that was just as bad as completely mouthing off.

"This is the bathroom. Basically just stay out of everyone's way. You aren't a night showerer, are you?" asked Becca, eyes narrowing at Clary. Clary shook her head. She wasn't—she preferred showering in the morning. Becca looked satisfied and moved on, surveying the disheveled room as if it were her kingdom.

"There are only twelve of us in here. There are plenty of other cells with twelve other girls, but if I were you, I'd just stick to your own cell." Clary was beginning to realize that Becca wasn't really offering friendly advice—she was actually making demands. Before the whole trial thing, Clary wouldn't have let people talk down to her. It was actually one of her pet peeves, and common with her being so small, but Clary was willing to let it slide. There was no reason to _purposefully _put herself on someone's bad side.

"Why can't we talk to the other girls?" blurted Clary before thinking. She wanted to hit herself; she had just talked herself out of questioning the obvious authority in the cell, and now she was doing just that. Becca gave her a look of condescension and Clary's blood boiled, overriding her common sense. Just a little bit though.

"Oh, you can. I just wouldn't recommend it," said Becca in a sickly sweet voice that betrayed her word's true meanings. She basically meant, "don't do it." Clary took a deep breath and nodded, trying not to show outwardly how irritated she felt. Becca gave her a once over, and something seemed different in her eyes. They had tightened almost imperceptibly. Almost as if Becca was responding to the hint of a challenge in Clary's voice.

"Well, that's that." Whatever had been present in Becca's eyes moments ago had vanished, and her confident mannerism had been restored. Clary desperately wanted to ask her questions that would knock her right off of her high horse, but luckily, something more pressing came up.

"Fray, you have a visitor."

_Of course it was the guard from before_, thought Clary. _Of course_.

The room had gone silent. Clary gathered from the way that several people had stopped what they were doing to stare at her that many of them didn't get visitors often, if ever. Even Becca had stopped what she was doing to look at Clary again, that look from earlier back in her eyes.

The whole room seemed to be looking at Becca to see how she would respond, and Becca seemed to know that. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath as if she were about to say something, but then closed her mouth again, as if she had thought better of it. Becca just turned around and walked back over to her bed, and the other girls resumed whatever they had been doing.

Clary frowned, wondering what exactly had just happened, but slid her hands out for the guard to cuff anyway. Clary wondered if he took some kind of sick pleasure in handcuffing girls. She shivered a bit at the thought and turned away so that she wouldn't have to look at him. She wasn't sure what it was, but her really freaked her out.

He led her down the hallway past the other cells, dozens of girls amidst morning chores and other activities stopping what they were doing to look at Clary. Clary belatedly realized why it was that she was getting such odd looks—this was a prison for felons. There wasn't anyone in this juvie who wouldn't be going to real jail for a long time. It was unlikely that they kept in touch with anyone in the outside world.

That was when Clary realized that she had no idea who was visiting her. She supposed it could have been her mother or Luke, but they had made it very clear what they thought of her the day that she was sentenced.

_You are not my daughter, _her mother had screamed at her, tears flowing down her face. Luke had looked at her with a look of fury and disappointment before turning to comfort Jocelyn.

Clary shook her head abruptly, not wanting to go down that path again. She had been down it to many times in this juvie, and the last thing that she needed was to start crying in front of hundreds of girls easily twice her size. She had thought that there must be plenty of other girls her size, but she had yet to see many.

"Here we are, small-fry," said the guard, depositing her into what looked like another cell, but was connected by a large window to what must have been the visiting room, telling her that her visitor would greet her shortly. She cringed at the nickname. It was almost worse than "Fray," which did nothing but remind her of Simon. And that was the worst.

Clary thought that he believed her. He must have known she wouldn't have killed Dorthea, despite how convincing the evidence seemed. But, just before Jocelyn and Luke had ambushed her, he had told her in that quiet steady voice that he loved her. And then he told her that he hated her, and walked out of the courtroom without looking back.

Clary wiped a tear out from under her eye and frowned at herself. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry anymore, and yet here she was breaking that promise. She didn't have much time to speculate on that, though, before she found out whom her visitor was.

Clary knew that there must have been some sort of mistake. There was no way that this… this god was coming to see her. He had fine but curly golden-blonde hair, but that was only an echo to his golden, luminous eyes. His face was angular but not harsh. His expression, though, was the icing on the cake. He had the pretty boy smirk of someone who was hot and knew it, and Clary wasn't going to have it no matter how physically attractive he was.

"Clary Fray," said the mystery man as he plopped down into the chair on the other side of the divider. Clary couldn't help but delight in the way that her name rolled off his tongue. But, she still didn't know who he

"Who are you?" He clearly was in the right place—he had said her name after all—but she couldn't fathom why someone this attractive was attempting to make friends with her _after _she had been sentenced to a probably life in prison.

He didn't respond to her question, just widened his smirk and answered with, "The really question is, "who are _you?"_" Clary grimaced in irritation. She hated it when people answered one question with another question.

"You're the one coming to visit _me,_" said Clary pointedly, "I'd hope you would already know who _I _am." He didn't seem at all phased by her quip.

"Are you always this nice?" He asked, running his finger through his hair with a grin, "Somehow I expected more out of a convicted felon." Clary stopped talking and decided that she was completely content to just glare at him for the duration of the visit. Cleary someone had sent him as some sort of joke, but she didn't want any part of it.

Nothing seemed to faze him. "Come on, aren't you going to ask why I came?" he baited her, leaning in slightly to prop his elbows up on the counter. Clary refused to take the bait. He laughed softly and leaned back.

"Fine. I'll just tell you. I'm here to break you out." Clary's eyes widened and she looked around frantically. He couldn't say stuff like that.

"Are you crazy?" She hissed under her breath, trying to look as relaxed as possible even though on the inside she was freaking out. Her only chance of ever getting out of this hellhole was the prospect of good behavior—and that was iffy at the best. Even a whisper of her trying to break out would completely ruin any chances that she might have had.

"Calm down. They can't see me." Now Clary realized what the problem was. He was insane.

"What do you mean they can't see you?" She asked crisply, trying to be as delicate with the situation as possible while inwardly, she was fuming. Either he was insane, which was very sad but not her problem, or he was deliberately sent to sabatoge her chances of ever going home. Either way, she was not happy.

Clary stood up suddenly, her chair scraping against the ground. The first real sign of emotion other than cockiness showed up in the guys eyes at her sudden movement. He looked panicked.

"Where are you going?" He asked, standing up too, as if he would have been able to restrain her through the glass. He seemed to realize this and took a small step back but didn't sit back down.

"Well, clearly you have nothing important to say to me. There are… better things for me to do." She winced over her last sentence. They both knew that there was absolutely nothing better for her to do inside that prison. As soon as she rang that bell that meant she was done, she was back to doing what seemed like absolutely nothing.

"I'm sorry. Fine. Let's start over—I'll tell you everything you need to know." As much as Clary didn't want to be, she was intrigued with this guy. Whether it was what he had to tell her or his piercing golden eyes, she couldn't tell. Whatever it was, she slowly pulled her chair out and sat back down.

"Okay. My name is Jace Wayland. I have a deal to offer you." Clary didn't say anything, but allowed him to keep going. She looked up nervously at the security camera again. He noticed and gave a small laugh.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he said, nodding up at the camera. Clary blushed slightly at having been caught worrying about it. "Why not?" she sounded indignant, like a child, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I ah, let's just say I took care of that. _Anyway_," he continued hastily after noting her panicked expression, "back to that deal. I will break you out of prison." Clary stared at him incredulously. There was no way that he could actually break her out of prison—she was at one of the most secure juvenile prisons in all of America.

He noticed her incredulity and waited for her to say something. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the right words. He didn't offer to help her—in fact, he seemed quite amused. "What do I have to do?" she finally got the words out, glaring at his mocking interpretation of her struggle.

"All you have to do," he said cautiously, "is hear me out on an idea." Clary immediately narrowed her eyes. That was too good to be true, and she told him such, asking him what exactly that entailed.

"Ah, sorry, that's a deal-breaker. I can't tell you until you've agreed to listen to me. But, we can talk somewhere innocuous. Coffee shop, diner, cabin deep in the woods," he grinned at her eye-roll.

"Think about it," he said, pointing at her as he walked away, "I'll be back tonight for your answer."

She stared after him skeptically. Even if she decided that he wasn't crazy, there was no way that he was going to be able to break her out. Even professionals couldn't do that kind of thing. Not at this juvie.

The door banged open, interrupting her thoughts of a very attractive but possibly insane certain someone, and replacing them with the less tantalizing image of an overweight, overconfident juvie guard with a handcuff fetish.

"So your visitor never showed, huh?" Asked the guard as he cuffed her yet again. Clary looked at him in confusion.

"What—," he cut her off before she fully got her question out, "Yeah we monitor on the video screens. It almost looked like you were talking to yourself for a while there…" He studied Clary closely, almost as if assessing whether or not she could really be insane. He shook his head as if dismissing the thought and began to lead her back past the rooms and rooms of delinquents.

Clary hadn't thought that anything that Jace had said could be true, yet it didn't seem like the guard was just saying that she hadn't had a visitor to mess with her. Clary wasn't sure what was true and what wasn't, but she figured that she just had to wait until tonight and see for herself.

She had bargained on a lot of odd things happening when she came to prison, but never on this. This was not at all what she had been expecting.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Clary spent the rest of the day in a state of disheveled disbelief. Becca had confronted her when she returned from her visitor. The guard was still standing behind her, and Clary could almost feel the sadistic grin emanating from him. He wanted to watch her tell her "friends" that she hadn't actually had a visitor. She might have lied, too, if she hadn't felt like he would be more than willing to throw her under the bus at the first opportunity. She didn't need to be known as the liar on top of already being the new girl.

"I don't know. No one showed up," said Clary shortly, trying not to let Becca's slight look of glee bother her. Becca nodded slowly, her eyes light but her expression somber.

"Well I'm sorry to hear that." Clary shrugged and winced slightly as the guard slammed the door to the cell shut. Maybe he had been hoping for some teasing, maybe a small fight for him to break up. She had to smile a bit that she had disappointed him. Becca looked at her oddly and Clary straightened up.

"What do I need to do? I know they said something about chores when I got here." Clary looked Becca dead in her eye and waited for a response. Clary had originally thought that Becca seemed reasonable once she had determined that Clary wasn't a threat. But the look in Becca's eyes told Clary that she hadn't determined that at all.

"We have an hierarchy here. You have to work your way up to the good jobs," started Becca in that sickly sweet voice that Clary was coming to loathe, "I think that we have toilets to be scrubbed." Becca walked away without another word and Clary slunk unhappily into the bathroom to begin searching for cleaning supplies.

"Oh I didn't mention," Becca said in that same voice, sticking her head back into the room as Clary was rifling around trying to find a rag, "we don't have any more cleaning solution. You'll have to just use the soap they gave you for your showers." Clary took in a deep breath and just nodded.

It was going to be a long day.

By the time Clary had finished everything that she had to do, she was exhausted. Becca had waited patiently for Clary to finish with the toilets, and then told her that the floor needed to be scrubbed too.

Clary didn't have any soap left at all for showers.

Some of the other girls had watched Clary with something between pity and amusement in their expressions. She hadn't really paid attention to them—it was fairly obvious that no one had scrubbed the floor in quite some time. It probably wasn't even a real chore.

As she toiled away, Clary had tried to figure out why Becca hated her so much. She had seemed perfectly reasonable until the visitor. Maybe a little bit when Clary had asked about talking to other girls, but she could not for the life of her figure out the sudden hostility.

Clary had showered off (on of the other girls had been nice enough to silently hand her an extra bar of soap) and collapsed into bed. She was glad that Becca didn't sleep in the bed next to her—she didn't want to spend the whole night being terrified that Becca was going to slit her throat.

"Hey. Lights out." Someone banged on the door of the cell and the girl nearest to the door reached up to flip a light switch, sending the room into darkness. Clary felt a sudden pang of longing for some sort of _noise._ She had grown up in the city for God's sake. She was used to cars and trains and people making random noises at hours that most people didn't want noises. But Clary loved them. They made her feel like she was part of something.

All she was part of at the moment was eleven other girls' breathing.

She turned over in bed, facing the wall, and was met by the glow of a pair of golden eyes.

She let out a strangled cry, before Jace's hand immediately covered her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him in disbelief, struggling to get out of his chokehold. She still didn't know who he was for sure—for all she knew, he could have been someone hired to her as some sort of revenge for Dorthea's death.

"What are you doing here?" hissed Clary when Jace finally released her mouth from his chokehold after she had attempted to bite him.

"Geez, watch your mouth," said Jace jokingly, eyes gleaming at the pun, "and I already told you. I'm here to break you out." Joking aside, he seemed genuinely convinced that he was breaking her out of jail. Clary looked up at him dubiously.

"And I told _you_," said Clary, still not quite believing that he was there, "that it was impossible.

"You said no such thing," said Jace, smirking at her glare, "in fact, I distinctly remember you asking me what you could do to have me break you out? I thought I was quite clear." He seemed to turn that over in his mind, as if assessing whether or not he had been clear. "Did you come to a conclusion?" Clary resisted the urge to smack him.

"Fine. Yes, the answer is yes." Clary sucked in a breath after she heard the words tumble out of her mouth. She hadn't even thought about it, not really, but her subconscious seemed to have decided for her. What did she have to lose, really? Her family hated her and she seemed to be looking at life in prison. But she still had her doubts. "Are you sure—,"

Clary was cut off as Jace yanked her out of her bed and onto her feat. He looked her up and down, frowning. She subconsciously tucked her arms around her sides. Sure she looked like a little kid, but she had never thought she was that bad to look at.

"We need to get you some new clothes," said Jace finally. Clary let out a sigh of relief. She didn't know why, but she wanted him to approve of her. She shook her head—she needed to focus.

"What's the plan?" She asked, eyes widening as he just shrugged. _Shrugged. _As if he hadn't even thought about it.

"How'd you get in here in the first place?" She asked incredulously, not realizing that her voice was getting louder. Too loud. She heard the muffled sound of someone waking up, and then the not so muffled sound of someone jumping out of bed.

_Of course Becca's the one that wakes up, _thought Clary, groaning internally at her own stupidity. Why couldn't she have just kept her voice down.

"Well, this does complicate things a bit," said Jace, still seeming as calm and collected as other despite Clary's sudden breaking out in a cold sweat. Jace and Clary stood dangerously still as they waited for Becca's eyes to adjust to the dark. But, when they did, Becca did not say what Clary was expecting.

"Fray?" Becca rubbed her eyes, almost like she couldn't believe what she was seeing, "What are you doing up?" Clary's eyes almost bugged out of her head. Becca must have seen Jace—he was standing right next to her. But Becca just looked puzzled and Jace amused. Clary didn't even bother trying to figure it out, as she tried to think about some reason why she was out of bed.

"I had to go to the bathroom," said Clary defiantly, daring her to disagree with her. Becca just looked at her strangly.

"That's fine Fray. I honestly don't care. Next time just be a little quieter, okay?" said Becca, climbing back into bed with a yawn. Clary nodded curtly and walked into the open bathroom, making sure that Jace was still behind her and attempting to control her breathing.

"Why can't people see you?" Clary asked, but Jace was already shaking his head.

"I already told you. I'll tell you everything after I break you out—if you agree to our deal."

"Well, I already agreed. Are you going to follow through?"

Jace's eyes hardened and his smirk widened at the challenge, "Oh I always follow through. Give me your hand," said Jace, reaching for Clary's wrist without waiting for her consent. She didn't mind though—she was busy ogling the way that the moonlight struck his hair—until he pulled out what looked like a giant knife type thing.

"Oh no, no way," said Clary, yanking her arm out of his grasp and cradling in protectively.

"What?" asked Jace, wide-eyed as if he saw absolutely no reason to be afraid of the giant pointy think he was aiming toward the sensitive wrist area that tended to bleed a lot when cut.

"What do you mean what? I am not letting you slice my arm open," said Clary, folding her arms into her sides as much as she could. Jace seemed to finally catch on and he rolled his eyes.

"You'll be fine," he said, reaching for her arm again and easily overpowering her, "just trust me" There was something about him that made Clary want to trust him, even though every logical bone in her body was screaming against it. She ignored logic and went with her guts, squeezing her eyes shut as the pointy thing neared her arm.

Clary didn't feel anything at first, they a slight burning. She gritted her teeth but didn't make any noise, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth slowly. Finally, the burning stopped.

"There," said Jace sounding pleased. Clary tentatively opened her eyes and saw Jace smiling at her arm and contemplating his work. She looked down, fascinated by the design he had drawn. It looked familiar, but Clary knew that she had never seen it before. A word flashed through her mind—_invisible_—but it was gone before she could place it.

"All right, all right," said Jace smiling cockily, "I know that my handiwork is beautiful but we really are on a time schedule." Clary might have apologized for holding them up were it not for that last statement. As it was, Clary dropped her arm and steeled her shoulders—she was ready.

"You never told me what the plan was," she said as they slipped out of the door to the cell. Jace had somehow unlocked it and was tapping in a code to lock it behind them.

"I did not." He seemed confident enough, but Clary didn't feel so sure. She liked plans, knowing exactly what course of action she could take if something changed in the scenario. "Did you have anything in mind?" Clary asked, searching for something. She felt bad for asking over and over again, but she thought that she had a right to know. She also thought that it might be important for _Jace _to know at least. She did want to make it out of jail without confirming a life sentence.

"Yes. Run." He intertwined his fingers in hers and pulled her behind them as they whipped through the halls. She wondered why no one had sounded the alarm yet—there were security cameras, someone must have seen them running, but there was nothing. They made it through door after door, but the jail stayed miraculously silent.

"How have they not caught us yet?" asked Clary in wonder as they walked toward the main exit. Jace just smiled what Clary was beginning to recognize as his signature smirk. The automatic back door didn't open as they neared, and Jace's smile faltered slightly. Clary was confused. She didn't understand why they would lock a door so obviously inaccessible. But, when Jace pushed it open, that was when the alarms went off.

Clary looked at Jace in panic and for the first time, she saw his smirk fall completely.

"Now what?" she almost had to scream to be heard over the sirens.

"Now," Jace said gravely, pushing all the way out the door and letting her through, "we really run."

_**Author's Note:**_

_****__Just wanted to say thank you for the reviews-they are much appreciated! I'm trying to update as much as possible :) Exams are coming up but I keep getting distracted with this story, so there should be fairly constant updates. Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Clary burst through the door with a surge of adrenaline, speeding up as Jace gripped her hand tightly and began to pull her behind him. They were in the parking lot, running toward an idling black SUV.

"Not that they can see us," said Jace lightly, his deep breaths betraying his calm tone, "but we really need to get this car out of here before they put the whole place under lockdown." Clary nodded, running after him as fast as she could. He was faster than her—he had about 11 inches of height on her—but she was trying desperately to catch up. Given the circumstances, Clary decided not to ask Jace why exactly no one could see them.

They made it to the car, Jace sliding effortlessly behind the wheel as Clary fumbled with the passenger door. He started the car and stepped on the gas pedal just as Clary was making it through the door. She flew onto the seat and the door slammed shut behind her, leaving her strewn across the passenger seat and breathing heavily, glaring at Jace.

"I'm sorry but I don't really have time for you to be delicate," said Jace tersely without even looking at Clary's face, accelerating rapidly toward the now closing gate. Clary decided, based on the velocity with which Jace was driving, that it would be a good time to put her seat belt on.

Jace swerved around the gate just as it was about to swing closed, denting the side of the car and sending them into a tailspin. There were about a dozen security guards running out of the gate and after them, but all Clary could see was the blur of green as the world spun around them. She was glad that she had put her seat belt on, as Jace accelerated out of the spin before they had even stopped, straightening the car out and almost mowing down one security guard. He jumped out of the way just in time. Clary had a feeling that Jace wouldn't have stopped.

"We need to disappear," shouted Jace over the wailing sirens that had started. There were several police cars pulling out of the compound and Clary nodded her agreement, waiting for Jace to continue.

"Any ideas?" he asked, surprising her with the question.

"_Excuse me?" _asked Clary scathingly, her voice rising in pitch as she grew more frantic. Jace looked confused and Clary continued. "You mean to tell me that you intended to break me out of prison but you had no idea what to do _next?_"

"Well I didn't exactly plan on the alarm going off!" said Jace, getting defensive, eyebrows furrowed at her accusatory tone.

"Why would that not be a part of the plan? You expected to break me out of a high security juvenile detention hall and really thought that we would get out with out a fuss?" Clary had moved beyond her franticness and had arrived a pure disgust. Jace was gripping the steering wheel tightly, eyes hardened. Clary sighed and tried to think of somewhere they could disappear.

"Pandemonium," said Clary before she had the chance to think better of it, "do you know where it is?" Jace looked surprised but Clary didn't falter. If he wasn't going to plan ahead of time, he had damn well better listen to her ideas. She half expected him to laugh in her face at the absolute ridiculousness of hiding a teen felon in a teen bar, but he didn't.

"Pandemonium it is." Jace spun the car around to face the opposite direction, sending a couple of police cars flying into the wrong intersection. It was clear that the people driving the cars weren't exactly geared for a car chase. They probably weren't even real police officers, just overworked and underpaid jailers.

As Jace continued to accelerate, the scenery began to change, morphing from a monotonous blur of trees into the clear sign of the outskirts. They were near the city.

Clary felt a momentary leap of joy at being near her home again, but that joy was quickly overshadowed by the realization that it wasn't really home any more. Not for her. Clary felt tears welling in her eyes but quickly blinked them away, turning her head slightly so that Jace couldn't see.

"So what was going to be the plan?" asked Clary as she cleared her throat. She needed to stop thinking about the past—if she started that, she would end up wallowing in a hole of pity that she would never be able to climb back out of.

Jace looked mildly startled by the break in the silence, but covered it nicely with the now familiar cocky grin.

"I was thinking we could go to a party," he said, eyes twinkling. Clary studied him closely, narrowing her eyes—she could never tell when he was kidding. There was an almost dark humor in his tone that Clary couldn't quite understand. He didn't say anything else and she still didn't know if he was serious. The sirens had stopped a while ago. Apparently Jace's driving was fairly decent when it came to getting away from cops.

Clary rubbed her head gingerly. He wasn't as good at making said getting away a smooth ride. However, she couldn't help but wonder where he was from. If he'd grown up in the city, it seemed odd to her that he would have learned how to drive.

She was about to ask him how exactly he had learned how to drive when the traffic started to slow.

"What's going on?" asked Clary, craning her neck trying to see around the cars, hoping desperately that it was just a bout of late night traffic. She cringed internally as she realized the absurdity of that thought—there was no such thing as late night traffic.

"Roadblock," said Jace grimly, confirming her fears. Clary sunk lower into her seat, not quite sure what to do. She looked to Jace to see what he thought, but he had already grabbed her arm again, coming at her with that cylindrical pointy thing again.

"Hey, hey," said Clary, trying to move her arm out of his reach. Last time he'd done that it had hurt like hell and hadn't really seemed to work very well. She told him as much and he just smirked, coming in closer.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he said, whispering smoothly into her ear. Clary let her guard down for just a second, and he captured her arm, sitting back into his seat with a smirk on his face as he started carving into her arm. Clary shook her head, trying to get rid of the mental fog that he seemed to promote. She had no idea what he wanted with her, but it definitely wasn't anything romantic. She studied the symbol he was drawing closely, trying to ignore the burning sensation running up her arm.

"So is there a reason you tattoo my arm everytime we run into an issue? It doesn't seem to be working so far."

Jace flipped her off and continued working, sitting back with a smile when he finished. It seemed to her that he was very proud of something—probably not his artistic skills, judging by the unsteady lines.

"Well? You can't just _burn _my arm and expect me to be completely okay with it, no questions asked," said Clary indignantly, staring at him and trying to compel him to answer. He sighed and turned back to the road.

"I'll tell you everything when we discus our idea, okay?" said Jace, looking mildly concerned, like he'd said too much. Clary glared at him for another second, then settled back into her seat and kept her eyes on the road. He had kept his side of the deal—breaking her out of jail—which she didn't think he was going to be able to do. Obviously he'd invested a lot of effort into her for some reason. Clary decided that if they made it straight through the roadblock without any trouble, she'd definitely want to hear what he had to say.

Break lights flickered on and off, leading them closer and closer to the edge of the bridge. Clary was wincing every time the car moved, tension rising as they neared the block. Jace, on the other hand, seemed to relax more and more as they approached the bridge. He even turned the radio on, smirking as he dialed to a news station.

_Juvenile felon has escaped…_

_Roadblock on the Brooklyn Bridge…_

_No chance of escape…_

Jace outright laughed at the last one.

"Do you really find it so amusing that I'm probably going to end up in jail for the rest of my life?" snapped Clary, fed up with his flippant attitude, "if I go back there I'm never coming out. "No chance of parole if there's any funny business." Those were the judges words exactly," said Clary, using air quotes. Jace continued to smirk, just shaking her head.

"You're not going back. Calm down little red," said Jace, patting her arm. Clary seethed at the condescension, but before she could react, they were reaching the next police officer.

"Just stay calm," hissed Jace, forcing a smile onto his face as he rolled down the window on Clary's side of the car so that the officer could talk to them. Clary tensed. What was he doing? Jace placed his hand in Clary's again, this time reassuringly. She squeezed his hand in thanks.

The officer leaned his head into the car, looking at Jace and then at Clary. Her heart pounded; she thought that there was no way the officer didn't know. But he wasn't shouting, "here she is!" or "I've found her!" or anything like that. Instead he just glanced at the two of them holding hands and gave them kind of a weary smile.

"Sorry to bother you folks with all of this. Would you mind if I just checked your trunk really quickly?" asked the officer wearily. Jace shook his head and pushed a button, unlocking the doors. The officer smiled greatfully and walked to the back of the car. Clary let out a sigh of relief as Jace rolled up the window. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at the mark on her wrist, then back up at Jace. His eyes were trained on the officer searching the trunk, but Clary was looking at him in wonder.

As the officer waved them through, Clary finally relaxed. Jace didn't let go of her hand, and she didn't move away.

"I've decided something," said Clary finally, after they had crossed the bridge and were moving into the city. Jace looked at her.

"What's that?"

"I am fully willing to hear you out on whatever it is you have to say. That was amazing." Clary couldn't help the admiration that slipped into her voice as she said that, knowing full well that it would result in the smirk that appeared on Jace's face seconds later. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, but it didn't diminish the amazement she felt.

"Just you wait. This is only the beginning," his golden eyes met hers momentarily, before turning back to the road. Clary slumped against the window, hand still intertwined with Jace's. She wanted to think about how he could have possibly fooled the officer, but exhaustion overtook her and she faded into the blackness before she thought about much of anything.

_Author's Note_

_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think or if you have any advice :) _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Clary," someone shouted, shattering the sweet darkness she had been blissfully lost in. Clary shot up, inadvertently colliding with something just above her head. And that something _hurt._

"Ouch, Angel," said Jace, rubbing his chin and narrowing his eyes at Clary, who was rubbing her head as well, "What did you do that for?" Jace sounded incredulous that Clary would have the nerve to attempt to mess up a face as beautiful as his.

"Me?" cried Clary, glaring back at him with an equal amount of fervor, "No one told you to invade my personal space and _shout _so that I would wake up."

"Fine, next time I'll let you sleep," said Jace, rolling his eyes and opening his car door, "but I thought you might want some answers. My mistake." Jace slammed his door and began to strut away, leaving Clary to scramble out of her seatbelt and out the car door, not realizing where they were until she caught up to him.

"Where are we? What happened to Pandemonium?" asked Clary warily, though she already knew the answer.

"Oh, you want to talk to me now, do you? And I changed my mind about Pandemonium. Too many people there are native New Yorkers. One of them might have recognized you." said Jace, raising his eyebrow cockily. When Clary didn't react, Jace's cocky expression faded into one of concern. Clary's eyes were wide and she was scanning the street desperately.

"Clary," now Jace's voice grew wary, Clary's frantic searching catching him off guard, "What's wrong? Are you looking for something?"

"Someone," whispered Clary. Jace wouldn't have known what she said if he hadn't been expecting it.

"Let's go," said Jace, swiftly spinning around and linking Clary's arm in his and attempting to pull her back toward the car. Clary let out a soft gasp and Jace paused for just a second, turning around just long enough to see what Clary saw.

Simon wasn't looking at them. Members of his band surrounded him, and they were all laughing and having a great time. Clary let out a strangled sort of whimper and Jace whipped them back around, half dragging her to the car.

Jace looked at Clary in concern but didn't say anything as he pushed her into the car and buckled her seatbelt. Clary was taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. She hadn't seen Simon since her trial. She hadn't realized it would hurt this much.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jace broke Clary's racing thoughts. She looked up in surprise at the moment of tenderness from him. He didn't even sound awkward like most guys get when talking about 'feelings.' She stared at him for a moment, saw herself reflected in his golden eyes as he leaned in to brush a tear away from her eye. He pulled back as soon as he'd done it, a strange look in his eyes like he hadn't actually meant to act on his thoughts. Clary sniffed and turned away, brushing away more tears she hadn't realized had been falling.

"I'm sorry," sniffed Clary, trying desperately to stop crying so Jace wouldn't have to see her like this, "It just kind of caught me off guard, seeing Simon."

"Was he your boyfriend?" Jace asked, his voice tense in a way that Clary didn't understand. She almost laughed at the question, but she couldn't quite bring herself to.

"No," said Clary, mustering up a smile, "not even close. He was my best friend." Her voice broke, but she took another deep breath. She just wanted to get it all out. "During my trial, after the verdict… he told me that he had loved me. And then he told me that he hated me."

Clary turned away from Jace, staring out the window. Jace sucked in a breath a couple of times, almost as if he wanted to say something, but never did. They backed out of the parking spot and away from Simon and the band. Clary resisted the urge to turn around and watch as they drove away.

"Hey," said Jace finally, shooting Clary a mischievous grin, "I think I know something that will cheer you up."

They pulled down a small alley way deep in the heart of the city. The alley was dark and dirty, a dumpster at the end was surrounded by even more trash and a few hobos. Clary looked around skeptically, her tears long dried by now and her usual sarcasm was back in full force.

"Wow you really know how to treat a girl well."

Jace looked at her cockily, "You should see where I take the girls I _don't _like." Before either of them had time to process what that statement meant, Jace had hopped out of the car and opened Clary's door, "My lady." Jace gave a small little bow and Clary couldn't help but giggle.

"Such a gentleman," she said liltingly, holding her hand out for him to take. He surprised her and pulled it to his lips, gently kissing the top of her hand but keeping eye contact with Clary the entire time. Clary sucked in a breath and forgot to pay attention to what she was doing, missing her step down from the car and falling straight into Jace's arms.

"You know," said Jace, the moment over, "if you wanted to touch me, all you had to do was ask." Clary rolled her eyes and shoved him off of her, dusting invisible dirt off of her… jumpsuit.

"You know I really can't keep walking around like this," said Clary, gesturing at the bright orange beacon, "Someone's going to realize that orange isn't really the new pink and call the police." Jace was already rolling his eyes. Why didn't that surprise her?

"You already know that's not what people see when they look at you," said Jace, gesturing toward the tattoo on her arm in case she'd forgotten. She gave him a look that clearly indicated she hadn't forgotten the fact that he had singed a symbol onto her arm that miraculously turned her into someone else.

"Yes, but you said that someone at Pandemonium might have recognized me. It can't last forever," Clary said, starting to get exasperated. If he could break her out of prison, he could certainly spring for some jeans and a t-shirt.

"Okay, okay," said Jace, taking Clary's arm and pulling her toward a door she hadn't noticed before, "as soon as our 'date' is over, I'll take you somewhere to get new clothes." Said Jace, emphasizing the word 'date' in as sarcastic a tone as he could muster. "Until then, would you just try to enjoy the experience? This is going to be the best food you've had in months."

Clary sighed in exasperation but nodded and allowed Jace to pull her through the dark door, bracing herself for something she was going to wish she'd never seen. However, what she saw surprised her, and not in a bad way.

While she'd been expecting some underground club, or at least a bar, it seemed like nothing more than a mom and pop diner.

"What is this place?" asked Clary in wonder, admiring the vintage booths and boom box as they took a seat in a booth near the window. Clary glanced out the window, frowning at the fact that it didn't seem like anyone was coming in through the front door. No one even looked at the building.

"Just a little place only locals know about," said Jace, winking at a cute waitress as she passed them, interrupting Clary's thought with a different, more pressing one. Clary smacked Jace's arm, trying not to think about how hard and muscled it was.

"What was that for?" Asked Jace; although it seemed like Clary's smack had hurt her more than it had hurt him. She didn't respond, instead trained her eyes on the waitress that he had just winked at.

"Oh, Becca? We've been friends forever. Just playful banter…" said Jace, trailing off when yet another attractive waitress walked by. Clary waited until he had finished watching her walk away to smack him again.

"I understand that you have a flirting quota you need to fill daily," said Clary, gesturing at all of the pretty girls in the room, "but I'm going through a pretty major life event at the moment and I'd really appreciate it if you could focus."

Jace just smirked and trained his eyes on Clary instead, giving her a once over. "This could be entertaining as well." Clary subconsciously folded her arms, sighing in relief when a _waiter _walked over to hand them their menus. She could almost feel Jace's disappointment, and decided that she could have some fun with that too.

"Oh thank you so much… Jacob," said Clary, trying to sound sultry but refusing to look at Jace to see if it bothered him. She put her hand on Jacob's arm, smiling at the fact that it was almost as defined as Jace's was. Jacob's icy blue eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

"What's the best thing on the menu?" Clary asked Jacob, still in as sexy a voice as possible. Jacob cleared his throat and shook his head before responding. Either Clary was really good at flirting or really bad at it. She was hoping for the former.

"Well, for drinks, I'd have to say the Sex on the Beach is absolutely delicious," said Jacob in a low voice. Clary tried not to blush and smiled flirtatiously instead. It seemed like it was working. "As for food-,"

"I can take it from here." Said Jace tersely, turning to glare at Jacob. Jacob held his hands up and backed away, sending a parting flirtatious smile at Clary. Clary smiled back and finally allowed herself to look at Jace.

She was somewhat disappointed—his face seemed as relaxed as usual. But she could tell by the hardness in his eyes and the way he clenched his fists that she had affected him.

"What's wrong?" asked Clary sweetly, widening her eyes at Jace in innocence.

He shook his head and spread his hands.

"Do you want to hear what I have to say or what?" Asked Jace curtly, all teasing gone.

Clary leaned in, eyes on his. "I'm listening."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Quick AN: So sorry for the delay! This was a difficult chapter to write conceptually, and the fact that a close family member recently passed away was also a bit of a roadblock. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy!_

Clary watched Jace closely, waiting for him to explain everything. He swallowed once and pursed his lips, then took a deep breath. Clary tried not to fidget, but wasn't quite successful. She tapped her fingers on the table subconsciously, but she stopped suddenly as Jace narrowed his eyes at said fingers.

"Got somewhere to be?" Jace's tone pushed her over the edge.

"Oh come on just spit it out already!" said Clary in a rush. Once she'd started her rant, everything else seemed to rush out after it, "I have been waiting all damn day for some sort of explanation for all of…" Clary threw her arms up, "all of this." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then sat back slowly. Jace's patient expression hadn't changed the entire time, infuriating Clary further, but she didn't have the energy to yell at him anymore.

"Okay, you're right," said Jace, surprising Clary. It probably surprised Jace too. He shook his head slightly, then leaned back and crossed his arms, "what do you want to know?"

"Everything. Just start at the beginning," said Clary trying not to let the relief seep into her voice.

"The beginning?" said Jace, laughing condescendingly; "we are going to be here a hell of a long time if you really want me to start at the beginning." Clary opened her mouth to berate him for being such a smartass, but he quickly continued talking before she had the chance. "I'll just tell you everything that concerns you." Clary smiled.

"Ok… well, you didn't kill your neighbor. Dorthea."

"Obviously," said Clary dryly. Jace shot her a look but continued. Apparently he was done with being interrupted.

"Well, the fact that you got prosecuted wasn't an accident. Someone wants you out of the picture, and Dorthea was just a convenient side affect." Jace waited as Clary processed that information. She turned it over in her mind, trying to make sense of what he had said. Clary knew that someone killed Dorthea, but she'd never really thought that that someone meant to frame Clary.

Clary started to ask Jace another question, but Jace motioned for her to wait.

"Just let me get through this, then you can ask all of the questions that you want." Clary nodded reluctantly, "Anyway, Dorthea was apparently a minor irritation to whoever killed her, but she wasn't the target. You were. Whoever it was wanted to put you away and keep us from finding you.

"Okay wait, who's this 'us'," Clary asked, losing patience with Jace's cryptic and slow-paced story. "I'm getting there," said Jace, his voice laced with sarcasm, "would you like to tell the story? That's what I thought." Clary dropped her hands, which had come to her forehead in confusion. She rolled her eyes but gave Jace a slight nod.

"So we are Shadowhunters. And before you ask," said Jace quickly, anticipating the question based on the expression on Clary's face, "Shadowhunters are the protectors of the world basically. There are downworlders, of course, but we don't really worry about them and they don't worry about us. We hunt the demons that come from other dimensions to keep them from draining the life force of this world."

Clary looked at him blankly, "You know, I really want to believe that you are absolutely insane. But I really don't know how to explain anything that's happened today, so I am just going to smile and nod for the moment and wait until this starts to make sense."

"Look," said Jace, running his fingers through his hair, "It's not going to make sense right away. This will take some getting used to, and I know that it's kind of a lot to grasp at first. I'll just simplify it for you: There are Shadowhunters, downworlders, and demons, essentially. Shadowhunters are good, downworlders are questionable, and—."

"What the hell are downworlders?" Asked Clary, throwing her hands up again, "Why do you expect me to just know what these terms mean? I'm still not even convinced you haven't drugged me and that this is all a dream," said Clary, the last part mostly to herself.

"Right, sorry," said Jace hastily, trying to calm her down. His eyes flared in warning but the rest of his face showed nothing to betray his emotions. The rest of the café had gone silent, now all trying to subtly listen in on their conversation, "Could you keep it down?" asked Jace, lowering his voice, "I shouldn't even really be telling you all of this in public."

"Well I'd offer up my house but I'm pretty sure they would just send me right back to hell," mumbled Clary bitterly. Jace eyed her closely then sighed.

"Okay. Downworlders are vampire, faeries, werewolves, and warlocks. I know you've been taught all this is completely made up, but it's not. There's something special about you. Something that someone wants. I'm here to help you figure out what that something is."

"Okay. You've given me a lot to process. And why would anyone want me? There's nothing special about me, I can assure you," said Clary confidently.

"That's what we're trying to find out. Do you trust me?" Asked Jace. Clary looked back at him with a combination of exhaustion and exasperation.

"If I trust you enough to go face to face undisguised with a police officer holding my photograph, drag a metal blade through my skin, and break me out of prison, I think we're beyond you having to ask that question." Jace nodded curtly and stood up, pulling Clary after him. He sent a parting wink to his waitress friend and then let the door slam behind them.

"Where are we going?" Asked Clary, her red curls bouncing as she tried to keep up with Jace's long legs. She was trying not to think too much about everything that he had told her and instead focus on what was happening in the moment.

"Somewhere safe. I realized that I don't actually know who is after you, so it's probably best that we don't conduct meetings in the middle of a downworlder diner." Jace seemed almost a little bit embarrassed that he had been so careless, but Clary thought that she might have imagined it.

"Are we driving to 'somewhere safe'?" Asked Clary in confusion as they passed the alleyway that the car was parked in.

"No, I'm sure someone has stolen it by now," said Jace nonchalantly. Clary stopped and turned to look at Jace head on.

"That doesn't concern you at all?" Asked Clary incredulously. Jace gave her a look that was almost condescending. She was glad he was back to normal. "That was our getaway car. Even if they didn't recognize us before, I'm sure that they've figured out which car was stolen by now." Jace turned and kept walking.

"Do you mean to say that you broken me out of jail for murder and you just thought tacking Grand Theft Auto to the end of that was for the best?"

"To be honest, your record couldn't have really gotten much worse. And Grand Theft Auto is so classy…" said Jace, still speed walking. Clary decided that her 'living in the moment' idea wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be.

"So we're walking to this safe house?" She decided to drop the car issue… for now.

"Well… not exactly." Before Jace could finish, a strange looking car pulled up next to them, veering dangerously close to the curb. There was a guy who looked to be about their age sitting in the front seat looking at them expectantly. Clary looked at Jace to ask him what to do, but he was already in the front seat of the car.

"Gentlemen…" mumbled Clary before opening the door to backseat. She was about to get in and introduce herself to the new guy, but realized that neither of the two was paying any attention. They were arguing in low voices. Clary was about to interrupt when she realized who they were talking about.

"What were you thinking Jace? Breaking her out of jail? She would have been safer there," said the new guy, his eyes accusatory.

"What I was suppose to just let her rot in jail without knowing who she was? She was a sitting hen Alec. They were just waiting for the right moment to use her," Jace said, his eyes stony.

"Ahem," said Clary, sliding into the car and slamming the door, "thanks for getting the door for me Jace. Such a gentleman." She was turning their words over in her mind but thought that it was best they didn't know she had heard.

"Ah," said the new guy, who Jace had called Alec, shifting the car into gear, "Clearly she doesn't know you at all if she expects you to be a gentleman."

"Very funny," said Jace drily, making a face at Alec before turning to face Clary with a grin on his face. "This is Alec, my brother." Clary looked at the two in disbelief. Jace looked nothing like Alec.

"Well my brother of sorts," said Jace, nudging Alec playfully. Alec just rolled his eyes and put the car in brake. Clary looked up in surprise.

"We're here already?" The way that Jace had talked about the safe house made it sound like they were going on a road trip to the middle of nowhere.

"I said safe house," said Jace, hopping out of the car, "Behold." He spread his arms out in front of him as if displaying some majestic palace.

"This is it?" Asked Clary, disdain seeping into her voice. She couldn't help it—it was a rundown old church. It didn't even look safe to live in. Not exactly the paradise she had fantasized about visiting if she even got out of prison.

"Hey. Don't knock it 'til you try it," said Jace as he walked toward the door.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Clary called after him. He didn't respond, leaving Clary and Alec standing on the doorstep.

"We aren't actually allowed to leave you alone, so if you'd hurry up and get inside, it'd be much appreciated," prodded Alec, not unkindly. Clary mumbled a quick apology and began making her way up the pathway. Clary was torn between seeing a rundown church and seeing something… more. She couldn't help but feel as if the church used to be beautiful at least.

"Welcome home," said Jace as Clary stepped in the door. She looked at him as he grinned at her. He seemed so different from the sarcastic asshole that had broken her out of prison—he really seemed at home here.

"Maybe," Clary whispered softly. She hadn't had a home in what felt like forever. "Now what?"

"Now," said Jace, back to his signature smirk, "the fun begins."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Is this really necessary?"

Clary stood nervously in the center of a large mat, trying to decide how to get the athletic pants she was wearing to stay on her hips. Apparently they belonged to a girl named Isabelle, but she wouldn't be back until later. Clary finally gave up on trying to make the pants work and just rolled the waist up.

"Of course this is necessary," said Jace from somewhere in a back room. Clary had considered following him to see what he was doing, but decided that she didn't really want to know. Alec had disappeared to somewhere, much to Clary's disappointment. She thought that if anyone could keep Jace in line, it had been Alec.

Now she was alone with Jace, and he was walking out of the back room with two spears.

"Oh no way," said Clary, throwing her hands up and backing slowly off of the mat. Jace was smiling at her enticingly but she wasn't having any of it. "I knew I should have stayed in prison. At least there they would have found my body."

"Oh relax," said Jace, nonchalantly tossing one of the spears at Clary's feet. Her eyes widened in fear before relaxing into something more closely resembling disapproval. Jace tossed his own spear down as well, and then moved in closer to Clary.

"We don't need those yet," he said, moving closer still. Clary's breathing hitched, her head tilted slightly back so that she could keep eye contact with him. His eyes darted down quickly, he gave her a small smirk, and then pushed her over.

"What the hell Jace? Now I'm definitely done," said Clary incredulously from her sprawled out position on the mat. He was doubled over in laughter, tears leaking out of his annoyingly perfect eyes. Clary brushed her hair out of her face and got back on her feet, swinging around to walk out of the room. If he wanted to be an ass he could find someone else to hang out with him.

"No, I'm sorry! I'm done," said Jace, catching Clary's arm but still laughing a little bit. She glared up at him, waiting for him to actually show any sign of being genuine. She wasn't really surprised she could find anything.

"Promise?"

Jace's face paled slightly, his smile fading, but then he nodded. Clary shrugged and Jace dropped her arm, moving to the center of the mat with a renewed focus.

"No spears yet. I'm just going to teach you a few basic defense moves," said Jace, all joking lost. Clary nodded and moved to the center next to him.

"Ok, let's see your ready stance. Feet shoulder width apart, center of gravity low, square your hips…" Jace trailed off and tried not to laugh as Clary attempted to get in position. "No, not like that."

Clary dropped her head back and then pulled it slowly back up, waiting for Jace to criticize further. "Just show me, okay?"

Jace nodded, and then moved his hands slowly to rest on Clary's hips. Her eyes widened slightly. That was not what she had been expecting.

"Just turn them slightly… good. Now widen your feet and try to be loose and low to the ground." Clary nodded along, silently hating herself for being so affected by Jace's presence. His fingers trailed along her hips as he released her, leaving Clary's skin tingling in their wake.

"Okay… now what?" Clary cleared her throat and shook her head slightly. She was not allowed to be this attracted to such a blatantly arrogant asshole.

"Now, I teach you how to punch," said Jace, his previous grin slowly returning. Clary nodded and braced herself, clenching and unclenching her fists as she awaited his instructions. Jace circled around her slowly, assessing her stance and then moving closer to show her what to do with her hands.

He slid his hands up her arms before grasping her hands tightly, sliding his body in behind hers so that they could go through the motions together.

Clary wasn't sure if she was breathing.

"Breathe," said Jace with a low chuckle, confirming her fears, "all you have to do is let me guide you a few times. Then, once you get the hang of it, you can practice on your own. Clary nodded and allowed Jace to envelop her completely, giving over her arms and hands to his.

Jace pulled one of Clary's hands to his own and slowly moved it into the proper positioning, "Always keep your thumb out of your knuckle," said Jace softly into Clary's ear. She nodded her consent, not even bothering to ask why, and took a couple of breaths while she was thinking about it.

He took her through the motions a couple of times, not speeding up, just remaining at that same, excruciatingly slow pace while Clary tried to remind herself that she didn't actually like Jace, she just thought he was insanely attractive.

"Alright," Jace cleared his throat suddenly and walked away, "I think you've got the hang of it. I'll be right back." He disappeared into the back room again, leaving Clary standing in the middle of the mat trying to control her breathing. She sunk to her knees, and then sat down fully, deciding that she deserved a brake after all the hard work she had done.

"Tired already?" asked Jace. Clary sprang back to her feet and shook her head vigorously. Even if she didn't like Jace, there wasn't any harm in looking at him, was there?

Jace was holding a couple of pillow like things in his hands.

"Okay, you're going to punch my hands using the techniques I showed you earlier. Then, when I feel like you have a pretty solid handle on it, I'll start moving around and making it a little more challenging for you to hit me. Got it?" Clary nodded silently and mentally prepared herself, getting back into her ready position.

After a few punches she began to get it, and before long Jace told her that he was going to start moving around and making it harder for her to hit him. She just nodded—she was in her zone. She advanced further and further, and, even though she knew he was letting her win, she felt a small sense of satisfaction.

Then she tripped.

"Oops," said Clary as she tripped over the bottom of her pants, sending her sprawling onto Jace, "I'm so sorr…" Clary trailed off as the look that Jace was giving her registered. His eyes darted down to her lips briefly. "Breathe," he whispered softly, this time much more serious.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," called a high voice from the edge of the room. Clary started to scramble off of Jace, but he grabbed her arm and instead rolled her off of him slowly.

"Of course not Izzy. I was just teaching clumsy here how to punch," said Jace, not phased. Clary nodded and jumped off of the ground, hating for a second that Jace was so much calmer in pressure situations. Clary examined the girl who was strutting toward them, tall and beautiful with flowing dark hair.

"I'm Isabelle," said the girl, glancing at Clary briefly, and then back at Jace, "Hodge wants you to introduce you to the mundie."

"Tell Hodge I'm busy," countered Jace, raising his eyebrow at Isabelle. She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Cleary," said Isabelle, glancing back and forth between Jace and Clary, "don't say I didn't warn you." She sauntered out of the room gracefully, disappearing around the corner while Clary tried to decide what she thought of Isabelle.

"She's a little much," said Jace, studying Clary's expression, "don't worry, you'll learn to love her." Clary wasn't so sure about that.

"Where were we?" Clary paused for a second at Jace's question, trying to discern what exactly he was asking, but the moment from before was clearly over. Isabelle's five-inch stilettos had stomped on the moment quite nicely.

"I was beating you up. Basically."

"Please, I was letting you win," said Jace, smirking at Clary's eye roll, "anyway I think we're done for the day. I just didn't want to deal with Izzy." Jace winked and walked away, bringing with him all of the stuff they had been using.

"Now what?" Clary asked, furrowing her brow slightly. Isabelle had said she was supposed to meet someone named Hodge, but she wasn't so sure that she could handle meeting any more new people at the moment.

"I'll show you where you'll be staying and then show you where the kitchen is. You can meet everyone else tomorrow," said Jace, walking toward the door to the room without slowing down. Clary tripped over her feet trying to catch up with him and prayed that he didn't notice. His face didn't show anything, but she could never really tell with Jace.

He held the door for her on her way out, and Clary gave him a small, genuine smile. That was probably the sweetest thing he'd done for her so far.

Just before she walked out the door, he leaned in closer. Her heart lept a little bit, but she tried to keep her face neutral as he whispered in her ear.

"I saw that." He smirked and walked away, letting the door slip and hit her as she walked through.

She shook her head and scratched that bit about him being sweet, then followed him anyway because what else was she supposed to do?

An overwhelming sense of loneliness swept over her as Jace walked away and she realized that she was truly alone. Sure Jace and his family were there, but everyone she'd ever loved in her past life hated her. There wasn't going to be an end to this nightmare—even if she could prove she'd been framed, could she ever forget how they'd all abandoned her at the first sign of trouble?

"You coming?" Jace called back. Clary hadn't even realized that she had stopped. She nodded and smiled weakly, ignoring the concerned look that Jace gave her as she hurried to catch up.

She knew she couldn't think about it, but she realized that Jace's eyes probably weren't the best things to distract herself with. Ultimately she decided it was the better option of the two and spent the rest of the walk drowning in his eyes instead of the loneliness.

**A/N Hey guys! Sorry for the late update again, should be getting back on schedule for the next one J Hope you enjoyed some Clary and Jace time, let me know what you think!**


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